


Small Kindnesses

by queen_scribbles



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Gen, Jowan's artistic and you can't change my mind, Leliana sees (almost) all, Mentioned Female Amell, Mutual Pining, NPC As Inquisitor, Non-Canon Inquisitor (Dragon Age), Secret Admirer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-25
Updated: 2018-12-25
Packaged: 2019-09-27 04:05:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17154986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queen_scribbles/pseuds/queen_scribbles
Summary: Josephine works hard for the Inquisition, and the Inquisitor wants to do something nice for her.





	Small Kindnesses

**Author's Note:**

> Filling a prompt from tumblr with Inquisitor!Jowan because I love the disaster mage (and his slow-burn romance with a certain lovely ambassador) entirely too much.

 

Josephine was not a woman given to bad habits, but a terrible sleep schedule was one of which she would be found guilty. She couldn’t help it; there was a lot to do and only so many hours in a day. Of _course_ she stayed awake for as many as possible. There were invitations to send, to accept or reject(politely, of course), contracts and letters to read, always so many reports from Le- the Inquisitor’s ventures. The list was near-endless and never got any shorter.

She set down the letter she’d been reading--a rambling river of flattery from an obsequious duke who thought himself more clever than he was--and rubbed her eyes. She needed a break, before she laughed loudly enough to rouse half of Skyhold at the man’s attempt to manipulate them.

 _Five minutes,_ Josephine promised herself as she picked up another letter. _Five minutes more and I’ll take a real break. Go get some tea, or go to bed, or something..._ Her gaze ran over the papers stacked on her desk, piled higher than she allowed during the day, lest the Inquisitor think she was overworked. (She wasn’t, really, but she knew how it looked and she didn’t want him to worry. Maker only knew what mishaps might come from him being distracted.) There really was so much to do; maybe she should say ten more minutes.

Her eyes burned in the flickering candlelight and Josephine shook her head. _No. Five. I know my limits._

Now if she could just fend off the exhaustion and doubled vision for those five, that would be wonderful.

                                                   ~~<>~~

For once, it wasn’t the nightmares that pulled him from sleep. It was, instead, the needle-sharp pain blazing through his hand. Levyn woke damp with sweat and curled in a ball around the sickly green glow from the Anchor. It conjured ugly memories of the last time his hand hurt this badly, and suddenly he was fighting to not slip into oblivion on two fronts.

 _Just breathe_. The reminder came in a familiar but long-absent voice, cutting through pain and self-recrimination just enough for him to listen.

Slow breaths, in and out. First through clenched teeth, and then his nose as the pain slowly faded. Once it had mostly subsided, he sat up and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. The cool stone under his feet grounded him still further, and he raked his unmarked hand through his hair. Sleep would be a long time returning, if it did at all. And previous experience hinted the odds of that were low.

The Mark pulsed with lingering pain and Levyn winced. He really didn’t feel like laying here, awake, the rest of the night, waiting to see if his hand was going to erupt in unrivaled agony again. If he was honest, he didn’t feel like being _alone_ at all.

 _But who’d be up this late to tolerate the Inquisitor’s insomnia?_ he wondered skeptically, rubbing at the beginning of a headache.

 _Josephine might be,_ a little voice prompted. _She’s always working, maybe she’s burning midnight oil._

His face heated and he curled the marked hand into a loose fist. _I wouldn’t want to bother her if she’s busy,_ he argued with himself.

 _Do you really think she’d see it as a **bother**?_ The mischievous little voice sounded far too much like Trinne. But it was right; his conversations with Josephine frequently turned into hours-long talks neither counted as wasted time.

Caving to the only decent alternative he could find to staring at the ceiling for hours, Levyn pushed off the edge of the bed. He grabbed a shirt to pull on as he made his way down the stairs. Hopefully the door would be quiet so he didn’t disturb anyone.

There was hardly anyone to disturb, he realized when he reached the bottom and exited the stairwell from his room. A couple guards lounged in the main hall, keeping half an eye--at best--out for trouble, but otherwise no one was close enough to be bothered even if his door creaked like the gates of the bloody Void.

The guards straightened when they saw him, mumbling “Inquisitor,” as they ducked their heads.

Levyn gave a distracted nod in return. He tucked his hair behind one ear, realizing belatedly he’d forgotten to grab something to tie it back. Probably didn’t matter at this hour, anyway, he told himself. It did serve to emphasize how barely put together he probably looked, but it _was_ after midnight. Who looked put together at this hour, anyway?

 _Josephine, probably,_ a _new_ little voice piped up dryly as he wandered in the direction of her office. _Because when doesn’t she?_

He ran his fingers self-consciously through his hair at that and almost lost his nerve to push the door open. _Not helping_. One more deep breath to steel himself and in he went. “Josephine?”

The little voice had been right; she did look put-together. In the vaguely-rumpled way of the up-all-night. She was also asleep at her desk, candle still burning, now-wrinkled letter with a duke’s seal in one hand.

Levyn froze in the doorway, biting his lip. Surely the flickering candle was exaggerating the dark circles under her eyes... He shuffled a few quiet steps closer and she didn’t stir. His fingers twitched as the Mark started to flare again and he quickly closed them into a fist to hide the light.

 _There’s never been that much on her desk before._ It was the first distraction he latched on to as he grit his teeth through another wave of pain. _How does she find time to do it all?_ He edged closer to scan the various papers and shook his head. _She probably doesn’t; hence the late night and falling asleep at her desk._ Another glance at the frankly dizzying amount of work. _I knew she was busy, but this is just... Sweet Andraste, no wonder she enjoys taking breaks to talk for an hour or two._

In the face of the sheer enormity of all Josephine Montilyet did for the Inquisition, giving her an hour or so to relax every once in a while seemed woefully inadequate. But what more was there? What could he, of all people, do to show appreciation?

 _I don’t know, **Lord Inquisitor Trevelyan** , what _can _you do?_ The thought was mocking, almost caustic, as it dug at his dirty secret and biggest insecurity simultaneously. 

His gaze fell on a blank scrap of parchment and it hit him. It would still be nowhere near what she deserved in gratitude from the Inquisition--from _him_ \--but it would be something. A gesture of appreciation, a small kindness, to let her know someone noticed. And it was something he could do. All on his own.

                                                  ~~<>~~

When Josephine woke, the candle had burned low enough to be sputtering in melted wax, and someone had tucked a small sketch of a sunflower under her elbow. Whoever it was was quite good, she thought to herself as she sat back and examined the sketch.  _‘For everything you do’_ was carefully lettered across the bottom. She didn’t recognize the handwriting, but it was so _painstakingly_ precise that was likely by design.

A mystery, then. She was too tired to puzzle out a mystery. Josephine yawned and smiled. She would just accept the gift with the kindness it was clearly meant. And probably not tell Leliana.

                                                  ~~<>~~

As it turned out, she didn’t have to. Leliana found out on her own, a little over a week after Josephine received the first sketch. Her collection had grown to four by then; two more flowers and a bird.

“What’s this, Josie?” Leliana asked with a smile, shuffling through the small collection. “You never were artistically inclined.”

“I’m still not,” Josephine retorted, swiftly but carefully rescuing the sketches from her friend. She didn’t return them to their drawer, though she knew waiting until Leliana left would be pointless. The woman would just rifle her desk later until she found them. Still, Josephine opted to hold the slips of parchment. “They were gifts.”

Leliana raised an eyebrow. “Really? From whom?”

 _Now_ she hesitated. “I... don’t know.”

“Josie!” Her voice carried the scolding tone of a concerned big sister.

“They are only ever left on my desk or the tray when Bernadette brings me meals at your insistence, Leliana,” Josephine countered with a raised brow of her own. “I’m fairly certain they come from _within_ the Inquisition, even if I don’t know who _precisely_ is leaving them.” She leafed through the small collection to reach the first one. “And given this note, I highly doubt there is a nefarious purpose behind them.”

“But there may be a self-serving one,” Leliana pointed out. “Someone trying to get in your good graces.”

“Then why aren’t they signed?” Josephine held up two of the sketches, displaying the lack of anything to identify the artist.. “There’s no benefit to them if I don’t know who they are.”

Leliana started at the parchment for a long moment and then smirked. “Well, then, it seems you have a secret admirer, no?”

As conclusions went, it was probably correct. It was also only _slightly_ better than Leliana thinking she was in danger somehow. That carried with it near-smothering protective instincts, but a secret admirer? _That_ would bring out the playful teasing side from where it lurked, and Leliana in a playful teasing mood was not to be taken lightly.

So she protested, “Oh, I’m sure it’s not that.”

“Then what?” Leliana probed. “If it’s neither threat nor admirer, what do you think it is?”

“Perhaps it’s just someone trying to be nice,” Josephine said, fumbling for an explanation that wouldn’t get her either guarded zealously or teased mercilessly.

“Being the diplomat does make you the most visible,” Leliana said softly. “I suppose it makes sense.”

Josephine wasn’t fooled by her friend’s too-easy surrender. Leliana had latched on to either the secret admirer or lurking danger theory and wasn’t planning to let go. Only time would tell which.

                                                  ~~<>~~

He needed to be more careful. Levyn rubbed at a waterstain on the cover of his sketchbook and glanced around the campsite. None of the rank and file Inquisition scouts at this outpost were paying him any mind, but Sera was looking at him with a mischievous gleam in her eyes. She’d almost caught him earlier; a casual  _‘Whatcha drawin’, Inky?’_ as she glanced over his shoulder that made him yelp and snap the sketchbook closed. His reaction had, of course, only made her more curious. And now he had a slightly smudged sketch of the sun on Lake Luthias he needed to finish without Sera catching him and asking too many-

“So, why so jumpy?”

-questions. “I’m just shy about people seeing what I draw.” That was true enough. “It’s something I mostly do for me.” Also not a lie, though recently developed habits did nudge it toward stretching the truth.

“Well, why?” Sera asked, scratching her ear as she plunked down next to him.  “Little I saw, you’re pretty good, yeah?”

“That’s...” Levyn hesitated. “Complicated.” He hadn’t even sorted out all the reasons in his head yet. “Most people in the Circle didn’t get it, thought I was wasting my time.” _‘Maybe if you practiced more and doodled less you could cast a decent spell once in a while.’_

“Piss on them,” she snorted, digging the toe of her boot into the dirt. “Draw for _you_ , Inky. Not other people.”

He laughed. “I try.” And then, because they were friends and she deserved something for the kindness of encouraging words, he flipped open to the half-finished sketch.

“I was right, you are good!” Sera crowed. She jabbed one finger at the drawing.  “Would look better with Lord Woolsey in it, though, yeah?”

“I’m not great at animals,” Levyn admitted with a sheepish chuckle. “Except birds.” _But maybe I’ll start practicing more now...._

“Oh, then it’s grand!” And with that, she was up, bounding off to chat with Blackwall or do Maker knew what else, before he had a chance to thank her.

 _Hope Josephine thinks so, too,_ he thought to himself, and set about finishing the sketch.

                                                  ~~<>~~

As the days and weeks passed and her collection grew, Josephine gave up even half-hearted efforts to figure out where they came from. It would be too much work to match their appearance with the patrol schedule and various ventures to figure out who was leaving them, and she had more important things to do. So she would let Leliana puzzle it out if she was so inclined and simply allow them to brighten her day.

And she needed it. Aside from a pair of trade agreements suddenly in a precarious state, Lady Forsythia was still being difficult in regards to peace terms(she _really_ didn’t like her brother), and Harritt had just lodged his third complaint in as many weeks regarding the quality of supplies reaching him. Which meant someone was skimming or cheating them _somewhere_ along the line, and they needed to deal with it. It was almost overwhelming, even for her, and talking with the Inquisitor(venting to him, really), before the day’s meeting had only helped some. He was a very good listener, and she appreciated the gesture--not to mention time with him--but she still had to _deal_ with all of it...

“Josie. _Josie_ , are you listening?” Leliana nudged her with an elbow, playfully but hard enough to get her attention.

“I am sorry,” Josephine said, clearing her throat sheepishly. “My mind wandered. What were you saying?”

“Well,” Leliana began, blue eyes dancing faintly with mirth. “The Inquisitor agreed with your suggestion for aiding Hasmal, for starters. And I need to know how many agents will be required to investigate Harritt’s claims.”

“Oh.” Josephine blinked, lips curling in a hint of a smile as she glanced toward Lord Trevelyan. She’d rather expected him to go with Leliana’s advice on the matter. And it would be a relief to hand off Harritt’s concerns. “Two or three should be sufficient, though I would perhaps say four to be safe.”

Leliana nodded. “Very well. I trust you have his complaints written down, no? That information will help know where to start.”

“Of course.” Josephine actually had them with her, as she planned on bringing up the concern over their supply lines. She paged through the sheets of parchment on her writing board until she found the pertinent ones. She slid them free to hand to Leliana-

-and discovered her mysterious artist friend had left her another sketch, this time ivy climbing a trellis, like in Skyhold’s gardens. Or her family’s back in Antiva. 

Leliana caught her hesitation and the smile she only partly managed to bite back. She craned her neck slightly in order to see. “Ah, another gift from your secret admirer,” she teased.

“Leliana!” Josephine protested. She started to hug the board to her chest before remembering the inkwell perched at the top.

“Your what?” Inquisitor Trevelyan looked up from the war table, his hand skidding a little against the surface and knocking over a couple of markers.

“Josie has a _secret admirer_ ,” Leliana said, smirking as she eyed him and Cullen both. “They’ve been leaving her gifts for a few weeks now.” She shot Josephine a mischievous look.

“It’s not important,” Josephine tried again to deflect. She knew what Leliana was doing--trying to smoke out a reaction from one of the men if they were responsible. “Or relevant.” _Whoever’s leaving them will tell me if and when they’re ready. You don’t need to fish._

“Yes, let’s discuss the matters at hand, rather than our ambassador’s love life,” Cullen said dryly. “Interesting as some” --a raised eyebrow at Leliana--”may find it.”

Josephine face warmed and she quickly turned to studying the map. She did notice--unless she was imagining things--that the Inquisitor’s ears were red, too. At least someone shared her discomfort at airing something so personal. It was nice to have a kindred spirit.

                                                  ~~<>~~

Levyn spent the remainder of the meeting trying not to blush, which largely translated to not looking at Josephine. Of _course_ Leliana knew about the sketches. She and Josephine were close friends, and she was the spymaster. Knowing things was her job. (A fact that made him more than a little nervous on many occasions.) But he couldn’t help wondering--worrying--how long it would take for her to track down Josephine’s “secret admirer”. That was _also_ her job, and she was very good at it, especially where Josephine was concerned. And while he _did_ admire Josephine for a multitude of reasons, that wasn’t the motivation behind the sketches(it **_wasn't_** ). He was just trying to be _nice_. Maker knew she deserved it, with all she did-

“Inquisitor, are we agreed?”

 _Speaking of Leliana..._. a wry little voice chuckled as his head snapped up, hair falling in his eyes. “...Yes?”

Leliana raised an eyebrow at his hesitancy. “You’re going to help Griffon Wing with their darkspawn problem?”

“Yes,” Levyn confirmed more steadily, tucking back his hair. “Sorry, I was lost in thought.”

“That’s going around, no?” she commented vaguely, glancing at Josephine. “But we’re all finished here. You can go prepare for your journey.”

He nodded. “Can someone let Sera, Blackwall, and Vivienne know I’d like them to come with me?”

“Of course,” Josephine volunteered with a smile.

“Thank you,” Levyn smiled back and then hurried off to get ready.

                                                  ~~<>~~

He was halfway geared up--coat and boots on but not the armored gloves--when a messenger tentatively entered and bowed. “Beggin’ your pardon, m’lord, but Sister Nightingale wanted a word b’fore  you depart.”

 _She_ just _saw me, why didn’t she- Oh, **no**._ He fought down a smile of grim amusement.  _Which jig is up, I wonder?_ “I’ll go talk to her.”

He pulled on the gloves as he crossed to her tower, heart in his throat the whole way up the stairs. Leliana was standing by a window when he reached the top, using the light to inspect a very familiar sketch of ivy climbing a trellis.

“So tell me, Inquisitor,” she said, voice deceptively soft. “What are your intentions regarding Josephine?”

                                                 ~~<>~~ 

For a split second, frozen with panic like a deer in a hunter’s sights, Levyn considered jumping over the rail and praying he didn’t break anything when he hit the floor. But that would only delay the inevitable, _and_ make her more suspicious, so he instead tried to look casual and slightly confused.”What?”

Leliana just laughed. “Don’t try to play that game with me, Inquisitor. I am much more experienced, no? I know you’re the one who’s been leaving these for Josie, and I want to know why.”

“ _How_ do you know?” he dodged, heart racing and fingers picking at his thumb hard enough to scrape the skin raw if he hadn’t pulled on his gloves.

She smirked, setting the sketch on her table. “You fell asleep working on this one, didn’t you?”

He had. The two nights previous had been bad ones for nightmares, and the lack of sleep had finally caught up with him. But he wasn’t going to just _admit_ that. Not to Leliana.

“I’d needed to discuss something with you,” she began, casually, though her eyes were locked on him. “As all my messengers were busy, I simply went myself. You were asleep at your desk, and I did not wish to disturb you. I did, however, catch a glimpse of what you were working on.” Her fingers tapped against the parchment. “This.”

 _Busted._ Well, if she had to find out one of his secrets, this one was preferable to.... the other one. “What’s your point, Leliana? I really need to get going.”

“My point is, as I said, what are your intentions with Josephine?”

“Nothing romantic, as you so clearly seem to think,” Levyn said, ignoring the small part of him going  _‘Weeelllll’_  . “I know she works hard and was just trying to do something nice. To thank her. Should I stop?” 

Leliana shook her head. “She enjoys them. I simply wanted to know the intention behind such gifts. Solving mysteries like that is part of my job, no?”

He nodded. “No, I know. Are... are you going to tell her?”

She smiled fondly. “Probably not. I think she enjoys the mystery of it as much as the sketches themselves. I’d hate to ruin that for her. I’m content knowing there’s no risk to her or her heart.”

“None at all,” Levyn promised. _Considering I’d die before doing anything that might hurt her._

Leliana’s smile widened. “Very well, Inquisitor. I’m sorry to have delayed you. Best of luck in the Western Approach.”

It was clearly a dismissal, and he _did_ need to get going, so Levyn nodded, mumbled thanks, and departed. He was halfway down the stairs before the tension eased and relief she would keep his secret set in. _Thank the Maker for small kindnesses._

**Author's Note:**

> And once again I strike with my artist!Jowan headcanon(Seriously, this is... three canons now, you can have that when you pry it from my cold, dead hands).  
> Sera is extremely fun to write anyway, but especially so with him bc sh’s exactly the kind of friend he needs.


End file.
